GargWorld
by KingCobra582
Summary: What happens when you fall into an alternate world with no humans but lots of Gargoyles? The question falls on Castaway. Contains Violence, and Language. Flames are welcome, so please R and R! *2/3*
1. Castaway's Wost Nightmare Comes True

GargWorld, Chapter One.  
By King Cobra3 (kingcobra49036@yahoo.com)  
  
Manhattan, 2002  
The Castaway Corporation  
  
Jon Castaway, the blonde, asshole leader of the Quarrymen organization, sat at his desk, staring down, with a note of extreme rage, at the newspaper clippings praising the gargoyles that outlined his wall on the bulletin board. Those monsters were being praised yet again by the newspapers for the successful rescue of a rich family being mugged in Central Park. The reports made them seem like heroes, blessing them for their efforts and generally turning public opinion in favor of those filthy beasts.  
  
But Castaway could see them for what they really were: soulless monsters who had no human intelligence or emotions, creatures of the devil that would one day destroy this large island. No matter what the people believed, Castaway knew that the gargoyles had no place in human society. He just didn't give a fuck what the opinion polls thought of them. He wanted to destroy them all anyway. And he would, too.   
  
Eventually.  
  
Right now, he relaxed. Waited. His spy from Xanatos Enterprises would return soon, hopefully bringing with him pleasant news about the possible location of those monsters, as well as how to deactivate any possible security systems, so as to make failure not an option. It was time for the beasts to perish.   
  
He would see to that personally.   
  
Castaway looked up several minutes later at the arrival of his spy, Kurt. The tall, dark-haired athletic quarryman looked exhausted for some reason. Castaway smirked as his spy entered the room, panting. He pushed the cup of Mountain Dew (excuse me for the plug - it's my fave soda) across the desk towards his closest disciple. Kurt grabbed up the small Dixie cup and drank feverishly, like a camel in the middle of some godforsaken desert. When he was finished, he wiped his mouth off and tossed the cup across the room into the trash receptacle. "Thanks."  
  
Castaway nodded, all friendliness currently present in his otherwise scary looking face. He cleared his throat and folded his hands on the hardwood surface, very business like, as he studied his spy intently. "So, what are the news at Xanatos Enterprises? What did you find out?"  
  
Kurt looked up at his boss, not at all sure if he'd be pleased with his news. "I, uh, I... well, that is... I..."  
  
Castaway stood up, in an intimidating fashion of impatience. "Stop stuttering and give me your report, you fool!"   
  
Kurt gathered his resolve, and gathered his composure. He tried again to speak, this time successfully. He hated it when Castaway yelled; why give him just cause to do it again? "I was discovered, sir. Somehow, Xanatos knew I was not an employee for him. The man must keep close eyes out, because he did not recognize me from his corporation..."  
  
"...At which point, he guessed somehow, some way, that you were not an employee and had you thrown out." Castway finished, a note of strained anger in his accented voice. Kurt's voice had trailed off after Castaway answered, and the spy nodded regretfully, wishing that he hadn't been stupid enough to go up on the Castle Floors by himself without checking to make sure the area was clear first. He revealed what he was about to say next. "But, sir, there were stone gargoyles up there. I'm sure it's them."   
  
Castaway smiled, pleased. "That's all I needed to know. You have done well, Kurt. You may go now." Kurt, looking relieved to be dismissed, left quickly, as if afraid of upsetting his boss. Castaway simply leaned back into his desk chair, hands folded behind his head, thinking back. Recalling the time when he, under the alias of Jon Carter, had questioned Xanatos about the missing gargoyles on the Castle known as Wyvern that rested atop his Eyrie Building. The billionaire had shrugged and responded that he had had them destroyed, upon which Castaway, acting under a suspicious train of thoughts, had replied "Really? An art fancier like yourself?" Xanatos had said that at that point that he'd happily pulverize them if he had the chance, and Castaway had let it go then on. Until he had heard the rumors linking the Xanatos' and Gargoyles together as living under one roof.   
  
Which was why he had sent Kurt to check it out. The spy had returned, with a surprising turn-out: there were gargoyles perched on the castle now. To Castaway, that meant one of two things. One, Xanatos had gotten new gargoyles to replace the ones he had supposedly destroyed. Two, these were the beasts that were stone sleeping on the castle parapets, which meant the stories about Xanatos and his connections were all true.   
  
Was the first choice possible? Castaway doubted it. The sudden appearance of purely non-living gargoyles on Xanatos' castle coinciding with gargoyles sightings after the billionaire had already claimed to have destroyed the previous statues? And the rumors, as well? It couldn't be mere chance. Add to that the question of why David Xanatos would purchase new gargoyles after smashing the first set. It just didn't add up.  
  
There was only one thing to do.   
  
Infiltrate the Xanatos Building tonight. He would find out information about a possible traitor. Plus, if those monsters got in his way, it could be the successful trap to destroy them that he had been hoping for.   
  
Castaway leaned back in his chair, scheming.  
  
***********  
The Eyrie Building  
Castle Wyvern  
  
Xanatos stood on the castle's highest balcony, staring moodily out at the city below. It hadn't been a good night for him, with people constantly calling him at his home and office and also constantly following him in the streets whether he went by car or foot. The negativity over gargoyles was becoming a problem and the citizens had somehow found out about his link to the clan. The stalking and the calls themselves did not bother the rich man, but it was the style of these incidents that made him ponder thoughtfully, gazing attentively at the darkened horizon, where six winged shapes were obvious to the naked eye, apparently going on patrol. The citizens' reactions to his presence either in person or by phone were to make death threats, or attack him maliciously, while screaming that "god would punish him".   
  
Housing the gargoyles certainly hadn't made life any easier for his family. Secretly, he wished that he had never gone along with Demona's plan way back in 1994, the plot to transport Wyvern here. If he hadn't, the gargoyles would not have awakened, and his family would not have been endangered. Then again, the gargoyles could be useful, like in the time Demona had turned everyone to stone.  
  
Xanatos was startled out of his thoughts by the blare of the alarm.   
  
EEE! EEE! EEE! EEE! EEE! EEE! EEE! EEE!  
  
The billionaire rushed out of his office and bolted, racing towards his living quarters. The shrill warning had originated in his family's room, where they lived contentedly. Though right now, the word "contentedly" might not be so appropriate, judging by the loud shouts and shrill alarms emanating from the Xanatos apartment. Xanatos quickly stoped outside the living room entrance, his hand trailing the wall, searching for that hidden passage which contained a laser rifle, like the kind he had used on Oberon when the Fay Master had come for Alex. Locating the weapon quickly, Xanatos aimed it in front of him and leaped into the room. What he saw next astonished him.  
  
"HELP ME, DAVID!" Fox screamed, her arms pinned behind her by several hooded Quarrymen. They had overpowered her, taking her off-guard. In the corner, Owen was lying on the floor, unconscious. Near Fox, Castaway cradled Baby Alex in his hands, smirking wickedly.   
  
"Tell me about the monsters, rich man, or your family dies!"  
  
Xanatos leveled the gun at him. "Let them go... NOW."   
  
Castaway handed Alex to another Quarryman and then pressed the barrel of his handgun against the side of Fox's head. "Drop the gun!" It was clear he meant business.  
  
Xanatos did as Castaway requested, carefully kneeling down and setting the laser gun on the floor gently, moving casually so as to not upset Castaway and kill Fox. When the weapon was indisposed, Castaway laughed wickedly. Xanatos glared ice daggers at him, a quiet fire in his enraged eyes. "Now let my wife and son go!"  
  
"First, a little Q and A," Castaway intoned, not budging the cold chamber from Fox's temple. "Tell me where I can find the gargoyles. The monsters must die!"  
  
"I don't know anything!" Xanatos answered, his voice giving away his rage and his concern for his family's well being. Castaway sneered at him contemptuously. "I highly doubt that is true, sir. People have seen gargoyles coming to and from this castle many, many, many times. I suggest you start telling me the truth." He cocked the trigger. "Unless you want to see your wife's brains littering the floor."  
  
"No!" Xanatos cried, furiously. Fox looked petrified. Castaway smirked sarcastically, and was about to blow Fox's head off, when suddenly everything stopped. Fox. Xanatos. His Quarrymen. Everything. It was as if everyone had suddenly become mimes. Only Castaway himself could move. What in the hell--?  
  
Castaway's astonishment increased when a green-skinned woman dressed in a fancy red outfit, sporting a possibly royal crown, appeared out of nowhere. She looked at the situation taking place, glanced at the frozen Fox and Xanatos, who were standing there, looking terrified. Took in the sight of the frozen Quarrymen, all of whom were standing cockily, like they were god or something. Then, last but not least, her gaze fixed on Castaway, the instigator of this unholy raid. Before the Quarryman leader could open his mouth to interrogate whom the fuck she was, she spoke first, a low tone that slowly rose higher with each word of the spell she was placing upon him.  
  
"Evil human trying to succeed  
in hurting those in my highest creed.  
Misguided human trying to fool  
everyone into hating gargoyles true.  
Attack you have made on my daughter and grandson  
so now I send thee away, to a place of no sun.  
  
Twisted soul and mind of hate  
go thee now to a place of fate.  
For in the dark shadows, you will find  
a world that threatens your mind,  
with beings and creatures so galore  
that you hate deeply and more.  
  
Alternate world and entrapped reality  
No humans present here, only winged nationality.  
May you learn true humility in your lesson.  
And return with peace everlasting."  
  
Castaway was baffled by the sudden cloud of smoke that illuminated the entire room. Somehow, the wispy veils shone through the entire surrounding areas, even though it shouldn't have. Why was it so bright in here? The room, to his perspective, seemed to have evaporated into a cloudy lightshow within which bright colors danced all around him. Castaway tried to resist it, to shield his eyes from the brightness, but it was futile. He couldn't even do that.   
  
The lights played almost in tune as he suddenly felt sleepy.  
  
***********  
  
He awoke.  
  
Gasping, trying to suck in air, trying to blink away the colors, the bright, funky colors that had swarmed over his vision, Castaway opened his eyes and found himself lying on his back in some tree branch. What in the...?  
  
Castaway sat up, and that's when he saw it. The large beefy gargoyle, bigger then even Goliath, with bronzed skin, large blonde hair, and a double set of horns that swept back over his crest like a pterodactyl. Castaway looked up at him, and his hand began itching for that Quarryhammer, but, alas, it wasn't there! Castaway searched his pockets frantically. Here was a monster, and he didn't have a weapon to kill it! Or did he?!   
  
Castaway searched for his gun while the buffed gargoyle watched him, almost amusedly, his arms crossed, an expression of great sarcasm etched on his face. When the human realized his gun was missing as well, the gargoyle spoke.  
  
"I am Morocco. And you are?"  
  
Castaway chose that moment to gasp in panic, and fall out of the tree. Morocco dove to catch him, but missed and Castaway saw too late the huge rock that was rushing towards him.  
  
"Aaaahhhh!!!"  
  
THUD!  
  
Morocco winced, and the human groaned, rubbing the back of his head, feeling the sharp pain of a new headache. Morocco picked him up, and carried him back up to the tree, where he gently laid the human upon a comfy bed and, removing his cloth from his pocket on his waist, wetted it with a basin and laid it across Castaway's forehead gently. The unconscious Quarryman lay there for almost half an hour, his chest rising and falling with every second. At least he was still alive. He was breathing. Morocco knew that his second, Morrison would be pleased. Morrison had always fantasized about meeting friendly humans. Castaway was interesting enough to sustain Morrison's scientific curiosity. Morrison was the logical thinker of the group, fascinated by science and intrigued by new and creative forms of research.   
  
Several minutes later, Morocco's watch over the vulnerable human was interrupted by the appearance of a tanned gargoyle, whose black hair hung loosely around his leanly muscled shoulders. Morocco greeted his companion by bowing, in the manner that his grandparents, after living with humans in Tokyo, had passed from one generation to the next. All the humans in this realm were long dead from famine and disease, but Morocco would still pass it onto his hatchling, when he was cracked from his egg. He knew that his mate, Jezebel, would be pleased at this. Thinking these thoughts, Morocco acknowledged his visitor at the door to the house.  
  
"Good evening, Morrison," He welcomed. "How goes things?"  
  
"Things are fine, Mor," Morrison answered, using the nickname he had used on Morocco with since their carefree days as hatchlings. "I spent the day protecting our home from the wildlife. The Gor threatened to destroy our beautiful village that we have worked so hard to establish."   
  
Isn't that a bitch?" Morocco questioned. Morrison nodded.   
  
The Gor were a race of intelligent lizards, mutations, really, that developed their lifestyles in as hostile an existence as possible. They thrived on death and destruction. The gargoyles were the only threat to them, with their large numbers and bigger fighting skills, not to mention their advantage of intelligence that they possessed over the Gor.   
  
"Hey, guys," Morocco and Morrison both glanced up to see a blue skinned female with honey blonde hair, and her daughter Alvarez approaching, their wings flapping soundlessly. The female, Jezebel, so named for her rebellious nature and her sense of material wealth, dropped in front of Morocco and they embraced.   
  
"Hi, Daddy," Alvarez greeted her father, in the way that only a six year old gargoyle girl can. He picked her up to hug her, and she noticed the shape resting on the cot in the house. She pointed at it, curiously.  
  
"Daddy, what's that?"  
  
There was a moment of confusion as Morocco turned his head to look. When he saw what his daughter was asking about, he laughed. The human was coming to, and his sitting up had attracted Alvarez's attention. "That's a human, my dear. Don't be scared of him."  
  
Castaway, fully awake now, realized where he was, and looked at Alvarez, a murderous scowl on his face. Then he winced from the headache, and relaxed. Slightly. He was looking at Alvarez and the other gargoyles in the manner that a farmer would look at a pig before killing it.  
  
"I'm not scared of the human, daddy. He's not scary, but he's funny looking," Alvarez clarified, looking and giggling at Castaway, whose face at this point resembled a ripe tomato.  
  
"HELLISH DEMON BRAT, MAY YOU ROT IN HADES!!!" Castaway roared, knowing he was shouting, but not giving a shit. Instead of crying or getting upset or even pissed off, Alvarez just laughed, a high sound of amusement that made Jon Castaway's blood boil.  
  
"Humans are such cute animals!"  
  
Concerned for her daughter's safety, Jezebel gathered her daughter in her arms while Castaway, realizing he had neither his hammer nor his gun here with him, sat on the cot and fumed, looking comically like a child, with his arms crossed, and a pout on his face.  
  
NOT THE END! MORE TO COME!   
  
Reviews (flames, praises, etc.) are welcome. kingcobra49036@yahoo.com. 


	2. Rendezvous With A Quarryman

GargWorld Chapter 2  
By Jake Denton (kingcobra49036@yahoo.com)  
  
PREVIOUSLY on Gargoyles:  
  
"I don't know anything!" Xanatos answered, his voice giving away his rage and his concern for his family's well being. Castaway sneered at him contemptuously. "I highly doubt that is true, sir. People have seen gargoyles coming to and from this castle many, many, many times. I suggest you start telling me the truth." He cocked the trigger. "Unless you want to see your wife's brains littering the floor."  
  
"No!" Xanatos cried, furiously. Fox looked petrified. Castaway smirked sarcastically, and was about to blow Fox's head off, when suddenly everything stopped. Fox. Xanatos. His Quarrymen. Everything. It was as if everyone had suddenly become mimes. Only Castaway himself could move. What in the hell--?  
  
Castaway's astonishment increased when a green-skinned woman dressed in a fancy red outfit, sporting a possibly royal crown, appeared out of nowhere. She looked at the situation taking place, glanced at the frozen Fox and Xanatos, who were standing there, looking terrified. Took in the sight of the frozen Quarrymen, all of whom were standing cockily, like they were god or something. Then, last but not least, her gaze fixed on Castaway, the instigator of this unholy raid. Before the Quarryman leader could open his mouth to interrogate whom the fuck she was, she spoke first, a low tone that slowly rose higher with each word of the spell she was placing upon him.  
  
"Evil human trying to succeed  
in hurting those in my highest creed.  
Misguided human trying to fool  
everyone into hating gargoyles true.  
Attack you have made on my daughter and grandson  
so now I send thee away, to a place of no sun.  
  
Twisted soul and mind of hate  
go thee now to a place of fate.  
For in the dark shadows, you will find  
a world that threatens your mind,  
with beings and creatures so galore  
that you hate deeply and more.  
  
Alternate world and entrapped reality  
No humans present here, only winged nationality.  
May you learn true humility in your lesson.  
And return with peace everlasting."  
  
Castaway was baffled by the sudden cloud of smoke that illuminated the entire room. Somehow, the wispy veils shone through the entire surrounding areas, even though it shouldn't have. Why was it so bright in here? The room, to his perspective, seemed to have evaporated into a cloudy lightshow within which bright colors danced all around him. Castaway tried to resist it, to shield his eyes from the brightness, but it was futile. He couldn't even do that.   
  
The lights played almost in tune as he suddenly felt sleepy.  
  
***********  
  
He awoke.  
  
Gasping, trying to suck in air, trying to blink away the colors, the bright, funky colors that had swarmed over his vision, Castaway opened his eyes and found himself lying on his back in some tree branch. What in the...?  
  
Castaway sat up, and that's when he saw it. The large beefy gargoyle, bigger then even Goliath, with bronzed skin, large blonde hair, and a double set of horns that swept back over his crest like a pterodactyl. Castaway looked up at him, and his hand began itching for that Quarryhammer, but, alas, it wasn't there! Castaway searched his pockets frantically. Here was a monster, and he   
didn't have a weapon to kill it! Or did he?!   
  
Castaway searched for his gun while the buffed gargoyle watched him, almost amusedly, his arms crossed, an expression of great sarcasm etched on his face. When the human realized his gun was missing as well, the gargoyle spoke.  
  
"I am Morocco. And you are?"  
  
-- GargWorld, Part 1.  
  
Castaway fumed as he lay, helplessly, on his cot, the gauze bandage on his forehead taking care of his headache, but making him feel fussed over, like a child, as well. He was surrounded by monsters with no quarrymen and no weapons to destroy every one of them. How on earth had this happened?! This was madness!   
  
As he glided back from patrol, settling down inside the treehouse, Morocco saw the human sitting on his cot, arms crossed over his chest, seemingly lost in thought. The creature seemed to be pissed about something, and the leader knew not what, but he decided to try and talk to the human. Attempt to cheer him up. His wings folded around his bulky frame as he stepped lightly over to Castaway's bed. "Good day, sir," The kind gargoyle greeted warmly.   
  
Castaway let his expression of hatred be his answer. "Fuck off, soulless child of Satan!"  
  
Morocco looked slightly pissed, not at all used to humans and even less accustomed to being insulted in such a hostile manner. "See here, human, I have saved your life. If I were a "child of Satan", would I have stooped to such a good-hearted act?" His eyes flared. "Why don't YOU just relax?"  
  
Castaway said, silent longings for his trusty hammer rushing through his mind. If he had his weapons here, the gargoyle would not have lived long enough to be talking to him right here and right now. Castaway knew he was stuck in a bad situation, and he hated it. All he had tried to do was save humanity from those monsters back in Manhattan. Why was he banished here? He hadn't done anything wrong. At least, not in his eyes.   
  
That got him thinking, and it was then that he realized. What the hell had he been doing?! He ruined his happy life, trying to annihilate those "demons", and it cost him his brother and sister! He had committed countless acts of violence against others, and had tried to kill innocent civilians on more then one occasion. At this point, Castaway realized what he truly was. A crazed maniac who was so fixated on hate, he had lost the good in his soul.   
  
"SHIT!" Castaway's mind screamed. He now knew he was crazy. He was wrong, and twisted in his desire for revenge, which, right now, seemed fruitless and without merit. This revelation was too much for his fractured mind to handle, and he looked at Morocco, suddenly seeing him in a new light. What had he been thinking? Gargoyles weren't beasts, after all. They were actually mankind's salvation. Guardians for humanity in times of danger.   
  
WHAT HAD HE DONE?!  
  
**********  
  
Morocco stared at the human for a while, feeling slightly confused. The human had cursed at him angrily, and then suddenly started staring into space, a crazed grin on his face. To Morocco, the expression on the human's face was similar to Morrison's whenever the gargoyle ate spicy beans that gave him gas.   
  
Was that what was wrong with Castaway? Was he just having a private fart?  
  
Morocco wondered. Perhaps the human was just constipated, judging from the silly grin on his face. He sat there, a huge smile on his face for some odd reason. The expression chilled Morocco to the bone. He decided to glide off for a while.   
  
Gliding through the treetops, Morocco spotted Morrison, coming in along his side, and slowed down to let his friend catch up. "How's the human?" was Morrison's inquiry upon reaching him. "The human is fine. He is just relishing a gas release," Morocco answered, gazing attentively at the blonde man who, for some odd reason, was now glaring at them balefully, like he was   
debating. Very curious...  
  
**********  
  
Castaway awoke, the glare of the bright moon blinding him. He blinked rapidly for a few seconds, trying to get the painful glare out of his eyes. When he could see again, the Quarryman got out of bed, stretching his arms, as he yawned. The day's sleep had done well for him. Castaway never felt more refreshed.  
  
That was when he noticed the small note in his hand. It was a small piece of paper, the kind that came from a small notepad. He opened it, curious, and read it. When he saw what was written, he raised an eyebrow.  
  
HUMAN,  
  
I HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU FOR SOME TIME NOW. TOO AFRAID TO COME FORWARD AND TELL YOU HOW I REALLY FEEL. I MUST HAVE YOU. ALL OF YOU. I LONG TO DO THINGS THAT YOU WOULD NEVER HAVE DREAMED OF. MEET ME AT THE MOUNTAIN WEST OF HERE AND I'LL MAKE ALL YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE.  
  
There was no signature. No name at the bottom. Who was his secret admirer? He had no idea, but Castaway wanted to find out. He would go to this mountain and get this thing settled. His ribs groaned as he got out of his cot, and climbed down the ladder nailed into the tree.  
  
**********  
  
Night came just as Castaway, panting, trying to regain his breath, finally reached the mountain's top. He figured that since his mysterious new friend hadn't arrived yet, he could see from up here when he/she showed up.  
  
He hoped it was Alvarez. Although he normally hated gargoyles, which included her, his bigotry was on operation stand-by mode, and hoping to god that it was Alvarez, who was the only female he had seen here, was better then the other possible alternative. If it was a male that wanted to meet him here, he knew he would be sick to his stomach.  
  
Sudden movement!  
  
It was only a quick flash of wings, splurged against the hillside, but Castaway caught it, and waited patiently. He hadn't seen who it was, exactly, but they would be here soon. His thoughts were curtailed by the sound of wings, and he looked up expectantly.   
  
When he saw who it was, the blood drained from his face, and he screamed. He couldn't take it. This was too much. Of all the gargoyles to send him a mushy letter, why did it have to be MORRISON?!   
  
"Hey lover!"  
  
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"  
  
To Be Continued. 


End file.
